Leona stood frozen, sword in hand, staring at him like he’d just personally offended the entire concept of physics.
"...What the hell are you?" she breathed.
Ban smiled.
"A farr. And a protector of food justice."
This ti, Ryen didn’t stay still.
"Let’s end this for good!" he shouted, raising his sword high. Holy light flared from the blade, spilling across the arena like a sunrise.
But Ban Frok was ready.
The mont Ryen swung, Ban plucked sothing from his pocket and hurled it—a handful of okra.
The okra hit mid-swing, swelling unnaturally and twisting around the glowing blade like living vines.
"Wha—?! Ugh!" Ryen grunted, straining as his holy sword beca an awkward, slimy ss.
Ban’s tone darkened. "If you insist on interfering, then I have no choice... but to get serious."
From nowhere—because apparently farrs had subspace inventories—he produced a cucumber in one hand and a cabbage in the other.
"If you don’t want to taste my thick and bumpy boys, step aside."
The ranking match was already in ruins. Professors and cadets alike had gathered to watch the chaos unfold, but no one made a move to stop it.
Ban’s voice rose, almost pleading.
"Why are you resisting ? I just want you to eat vegetables! To understand the sublimity of ingredients! Why are you standing in the way?!"
Ryen, still wrestling with his now-okra-coated holy sword, exchanged a wary glance with Leona. Both of them instinctively stepped back.
Because sohow, against all reason and logic, Ban Frok’s sheer vegetable-fueled presence was overwhelming.
Ban’s grin widened as his stance shifted, the cucumber and cabbage spinning lazily in his hands like a pair of well-trained nunchucks.
"You’ve left no choice... prepare yourselves for the Harvest Festival of Pain."
Leona’s eye twitched. "The what?"
But she didn’t have ti to ask twice. Ban slamd the cucumber into the ground. The earth itself rumbled, and from beneath the tiles, a wave of carrots shot upward like missiles.
Cadets scattered. A professor scread. Soone tripped over a radish.
"Watch your step!" Ban called cheerfully. "They bruise easily!"
Leona deflected one flying carrot, only to have three more ricochet toward her. Ryen finally freed his sword from the okra, but Ban was already advancing, cabbage spinning in a deadly arc.
The first strike hit Ryen’s shoulder with a whump, the second skimd past his face, releasing a puff of leafy shrapnel.
"Is this... cabbage-fu?" Ryen grunted, blocking a third blow.
Ban nodded solemnly. "An ancient art... passed down by farrs with too much free ti."
Suddenly, he hurled the cabbage straight up. It exploded midair into a rain of lettuce leaves, blinding everyone in a ten-foot radius.
"Now... taste the freshness!" Ban roared, lunging forward.
Leona tried to counter, but Ban was already there, his cucumber slamming into her sword with a wet crack, sending a spray of cucumber juice across the floor.
The sheer absurdity of the mont was only matched by the raw force behind his blows.
Sowhere in the crowd, a cadet whispered, "Is... is he winning?"
The ranking match was in complete chaos. Blades clashed, vegetables flew, and professors shouted over the din, but it all felt hopeless—until one cadet stepped forward through the ss.
He was lean, almost frail, with long raven-black hair brushing the nape of his neck.
Rin Evans.
Ban didn’t even bother to acknowledge him at first. From his perspective, this boy looked like he’d collapse from the re idea of a fight.
’How’s he ever going to be a hero with a body like that?’ Ban thought, shaking his head.
Still, he readied himself to strike—just enough force to knock the kid out before he hurt himself.
...But then sothing strange happened.
Nothing.
No surge from his [Agrikinesis]. No whisper from the earth. The vegetables in his hands—monts ago weapons of unstoppable force—were suddenly just... vegetables.
Ban froze.
"...What?" he muttered.
There was only one explanation.
This boy—this frail-looking cadet—hadn’t wasted food in over a month. He hadn’t been a picky eater. He had lived in perfect harmony with the creed Ban valued above all else.
Rin stepped right up to him, eyes calm. "Um... I think you’ve done enough already. Shouldn’t you go back now?"
Ban’s breath caught.
Here he was. The one he’d been searching for. A near-perfect being.
"You..." Ban’s voice trembled. "Do you want to try running a farm?"
Rin blinked at him. "...Are you crazy?"
Ban’s smile widened.
Oh, he liked this one.
The boy was playing hard to get, but Ban could tell—deep down—he was pleased.
Ban stood there, cucumber and cabbage drooping uselessly in his hands, staring at Rin like he’d just witnessed the birth of a new god.
Around them, the chaos still raged—Leona was swatting carrots out of the air, Ryen was trying to peel okra sli off his blade, and professors were yelling for everyone to stop. But Ban heard none of it. His world had narrowed to this boy, this pure soul.
"You don’t understand," Ban said in a low, reverent tone, stepping closer. "I’ve searched for years. Cities, towns, villages... and I’ve never found anyone like you. Soone who respects the harvest. Soone who truly cares for vegetables the way they deserve."
Rin tilted his head, clearly uncomfortable with the intensity of Ban’s gaze. "I... think you’re overestimating . I just eat what’s on my plate."
Ban’s eyes widened like Rin had just recited sacred scripture. "Yes. Exactly. No waste. No discrimination. Every root, every leaf given equal respect."
He dropped to one knee.
"I, Ban Frok, Guardian of the Harvest, humbly offer you my allegiance."
"...Excuse ?"
Rin blinked, taking a step back.
"I will tend your fields, cook your als, defend your pantry from the ungrateful and the picky. Say the word, and the bounty of the land will be yours!" Ban declared, slamming the cucumber into the ground like a knight’s sword.
The cucumber snapped in half.
The mont was... less dramatic after that.
----
Thanks for reading it.
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